Brothers in Wing
by RushandStreak
Summary: The dragon's talons dug into the metal of the plane, hot with fever. "No. Of course you're not, because you'll get better! You'll get up and out! You'll fly again! Promise me you'll fly again!" The reptile's voice was filled with desperation. Rated T for safety.


It was like any day in Propwash Junction, with nothing but the rustling of the wind in the corn and the buzzing of faraway engines. The only thing that set today apart was the roar of a dragon as loud as thunder, filled with such sorrow, such anger, that it could make you tremble just hearing it from afar. The scream of his pain echoed through the sleepy town, misplaced among the calm, peaceful ambiance.

He clung to the nose of the Corsair, stroking it softly, giving a distressed whimper in between cries. The scent of putrid breath mingled with the breeze wafting in through the open window, but neither dragon nor plane moved an inch to catch fresh air, to escape the veil of death choking the room. The dragon's light blue form draped over the old warplane, limp with exhaustion but trembling with a heart wrenching hopelessness.

Ears pressed against the boiling hot cowling, the dragon listened as each rotation, each life giving turn of gears, grew slower and slower. He dreaded the time when they stopped altogether, engine silent and still. The dragon's roaring was silenced by a soft wisp of air, just a trace of a voice present, a sound so soft it could barely be heard.

"I'm not leaving you," it said, a mouse whisper compared to even the quietest of voices, "Not ever."

The dragon's talons dug into the metal of the plane, hot with fever. "No. Of course you're not, because you'll get better! You'll get up and out! You'll fly again! Promise me you'll fly again!" The reptile's voice was filled with desperation.

The smallest trace of a chuckle escaped the plane's throat, though it was filled with uncomparable longing. "If I could promise that, you wouldn't be begging me. You know what's coming, and I do too, so chin up, Streak, and don't spoil yourself with mourning."

Streak just looked into the deep green eyes of his friend, glazed over with filmy coating, unseeing. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no," he muttered, shaking his head and denying the fate that clung to the hanger, that was just around the corner.

The Corsair shifted his weight just an ounce, too weak to gain a comfortable position on his own. "C'mon, it's not the end of the world, now is it?" Streak nodded slightly, not showing even a trace of teasing. "No, Streak, you're wrong. It's not. I know you need me, or think you do, but you're going to have to prepare to go without me."

"Rush… no," Streak growled fiercely, "You'll get up, you'll go outside, you'll fly!" He slammed his talons against the Corsair's nose, gaining momentum and jumping off of Rush. He ran around to the plane's tail and began to push Rush towards the door, inch by painful inch.

Sapping himself of strength, Rush pressed down his brakes, stopping him from moving more. Everything, from the tips of his propeller to the end of his tail, screamed with uncontrolled pain. _Euthanize me now, rid me of my suffering,_ he thought begrudgingly. Prolonging the pain for both of them by continuing to live on in this state suspended on the edge of both life and death was pointless, and this was why Rush, as a last request, so to speak, had asked to be taken out of the cold, inhospitable confines of the hospital to live his life out to the last second in his own hanger. Even Streak couldn't say no to this, even though every cell of his being told him not to agree if his friend, his companion, had even a small chance to live.

"Rush!" the dragon yelped, running back over to face the Corsair, "You have to get out -to get better- you have to get out!"

The plane's unseeing eyes hardened, glaring off into the distance. His weak voice sounded, "Streak! Promise me you won't slip into the state of depression I was once in. Promise me you will continue to be as you were from the start, to give life 110 percent. Promise!"

For a moment everything was silent but the rapid beating of Streak's heart and the weak thud of pistons in Rush's dying engine. Rush didn't need to see to know what was happening right now to Streak. The dragon's ears were drooping low, his mouth turned downward in a frightened, agonized grimace. Now Streak's voice, more dragon sounding than Rush had ever heard before, stuttered, "I promise."

Rush gave a long, shallow sigh, feeling so much weight being lifted from his wings with those simple words. "Then come here."

Streak nodded, walking forward, climbing up onto the Corsair's nose and letting his tail drop against the ground. Rush, feeling his friend placed securely on his cowling, whispered, "Streak, you are going to live with whomever you please of these choices. They have offered to take you in if ever anything happened to me, which in a few short minutes something will -you know what-," he spoke with a breathlessness, but not one from illness, but one from being rushed to speak, as if there was very little time left, "Skipper, Mayday, and Dusty have all offered, as well as Dottie if she must. Be good to them. Especially Skipper. Cheer him up, he needs it. Don't let the others be saddened by my death, it is not worth their time."

"But-" Streak said softly.

"This is not an option, Streak," Rush said sternly, his voice already growing more breathless and weaker by the second, "I'm telling you what you have to do." Something in the Corsair's engine creaked loudly, as if on the verge of cracking apart. The Corsair gave a yell of pain, one that made Streak jump up and flare his wings.

A few seconds passed before Rush spoke again, but this time there was no voice to the air, just a wind. "Now, Streak, this is the most important thing I may tell you. You're family to me, a brother in wings, I love you like a true brother. Look how far we've come, Streak, look at where we are! We're truly living in paradise! Friends, old and new, are everywhere, some of them more like family members than just friends, like brothers and sisters." Rush crumpled suddenly, his landing gear buckling under. Streak jumped off, hovering in air out of instinct.

The Corsair's engine gave a few weak turns of pistons, and Rush made one last attempt to get back up. His look showed one not of fear, but of pain and only pain. Anyone could see he just wanted it to be over, or his mind wanted it to be. He wanted to give up, but his body would not allow for it. It was his last stand as he trembled there on the floor, too weak to give even the slightest whimper. His jaw was clenched, his eyes scrunched tight.

Streak was there, stroking his nose, placing a wing around the Corsair's back. Seeing his friend, so proud, so strong, like this, Streak whispered, "It's okay, bud, it's okay to let go."

The plane went still. Dead.


End file.
